| Photo: Jasmin Garcia |
Ignorant as we sometimes may be here in Berlin, when the heat is on, a decision was made to eat Mexican, this lovely evening almost a week ago. Starving as hell and still hungover we arrive at something looking like a bar for hooligans. With company of a damsel in distress we pick the restaurant even though it was obviously crowded and the game between France and Mexico was showed.
Not realizing my, let´s say, provocative dresscode. I had at least 50 Mexicans looking at me whispering about what the Frenchman was doing at their bar. I tried to cover myself by drinking Coronas with empathy (crucially the lime didn´t fit in the bottle?!). The food by the way was alright, but I´ll never gonna be forced to wait more than 90 minutes for a fucking taco again. Maybe if I have the right gang colors, crips and bloods n´ such.
Hollar!
Ps. I totally agree that football is not an artform. Though what is these days? Ds.
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